ChurchMichiganUncategorizedWriting

Kneeling

I couldn’t have been more than 7 years old. I looked out the window and saw a man kneeling in the grass on one side of our neighbor’s newly built home. There was something familiar about him. His white hair was covered in a hat, or I might have recognized sooner that the man mixing…

FamilyWriting

The Songwriter

As a small child I remember seeing the album cover and recognizing his face. This was not some far off person who had no connection to me, this was my uncle, the man who lived down the road from grandma and grandpa’s house, who played with me and my sisters, who smiled and laughed, and…

FriendsWriting

One Little Pebble

My friend Karen and I were talking on the phone the other day. It was one of those long overdue conversations that followed all the bird trails and squirrels wherever we wanted to go, because we had time. She told me a little story about getting a rock in her shoe. She was in the…